Maelstrom
by Silver Dancers
Summary: By the end of Summer their world had become a maelstrom. It was no longer about right and wrong. It was about surviving in a world that none of them chose and none of them wanted. It was about being puppets for too many masters, the children of too many evils. They only had each other and even then, it was not by choice. TEoS rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Welcome to Maelstrom- my rewritten, revamped, and renewed vision of The End of Summer. Some of you, if you are coming from TEoS, have seen this chapter before, but here it is again to finally introduce the published version of this story. It's the same basis as TEoS, but darker, more fleshed out, and takes a much wider perspective of events.

I'm starting out the story with a T rating, however I may change it to M later on.

I'm publishing this **without a beta**, so if anyone is interested, PM me or drop it in a review. Any editing help would be much appreciated!

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Chapter 1

_Hermione looked down at the cooing baby, her eyes wide. She stood there, but could say nothing as realization dawned on her. She had seen this child in old photographs, in well kept books. But it couldn't be... _

_'Marius!' A beautiful, high pitched voice rang through the room, making the baby smile broadly and coo even more. 'Marius, be a dear and get Pansy, I don't have very long before my Lord will summon me. I would call Bitty down, but she's caught something and I don't want her near my babies." _

_The woman that entered the room was just as beautiful as the voice. But Hermione barely noticed her or the words that continued to spill from the perfectly colored lips. Her vision was still locked on the child. The baby couldn't have been more than a year old as she unsteadily held herself up on the edge of the crib. _

_"They needs to be fed in a few hours and I don't know how soon I will be back. And I know it can be hard to remember sometimes, but if you won't be in the room, do not leave them in the same cot. They argue over absolutely everything."_

_Hermione jumped out of the way as the beautiful woman came to the crib and picked the baby up. "You'll be a sweetheart for mother, will you?" The baby laughed in response, trying to grab at one of the woman's pearl drop earrings. _

_The woman laughed in response and pulled the toddler's hand away. "Mia, no. Mother needs to go out. Be good to your sister. I know you usually don't start things, but you reciprocate far louder." The baby stopped reaching and gurgled happily. "It'll be just my luck if you're sorted into Gryffindor, you bold brat." For a moment the child stopped everything, seeming to understand the insult, but the illusion was broken quickly as the girl cooed even louder and reached for the pearl again. _

_The mother glared at the child, kissed her forehead and set her down calling out for her husband once again. _

_Hermione took a few steps toward the baby, needing a closer look, to be absolutely sure, when the area around her melted away and was replaced by a larger parlor. _

_"Oh Cissa, I just don't know. It's not like our Lord to just leave us here." The beautiful woman was there again, this time cradling tea in the lap, her hand shaking slightly. _

_"If Jacoba had been here with us, I would have questioned it, but you know how He has been treating both you and I since Audrey's death," This woman could be mistaken for no other . Even though Hermione had never met her, Narcissa Malfoy was one of a kind. "You know we stay with our children, Delilah." _

_The woman, Delilah, sighed and took a sip of the tea. "I know. But you do not bear the mark. I can feel them. It was always minor on other raids, but on the culmination of our Lord's plans? It burns." _

_A chorus of excited "Mother!"s echoed though the room as a gaggle of toddlers rushed in. _

_"Pansy Parkinson, where are your manners!" Delilah cried out. The dark skinned girl that was leading the pack stopped, suddenly ashamed. "And you, Mia, what did you do to get your sister so excited?" _

_A lighter skinned girl pouted. "I was just telling a story I heard. 'Bout what muggles do on 'loween."_

_Delilah put her delicate hand to the bridge of her nose. "If our Lord could hear you. What have I told you about reading about muggles, Mia? Especially on such an important date." She turned to Narcissa. "I am truly sorry, dear, that Draco had to hear that." _

_The blonde woman took a sip of her tea and smiled softly. "Toddlers do what they will, Lilah. Although some have better taste." _

_The brown haired girl pouted darker, glaring at the blonde. A laugh came from the blond boy behind her. "Stop it Draco. That wasn't vew-vew-very nice, Lady Malfoy." _

_One pale eyebrow rose dramatically. "I suppose it wasn't, Mia."_

_It was obvious that Malfoy was going to say more, but she was cut off by a banshee scream from the woman next to her. Even Hermione in her specter form, jumped. All of the toddlers began to cry in fear and shock, running to Narcissa who had fallen to her knees. She wrapped her arms around them. The girls stared at their mother in fear. _

_The normally immaculate Delilah Parkinson had tears streaming down her face as she clutched her left arm. The mark had faded, but was puffy and red. It looked like nothing more than a new tattoo. "He's gone." _

_"What on earth do you mean?" Narcissa cried out, still trying to calm the startled children. _

_" The mission failed. Something happened, I don't know," Delilah's eyes were wide and she slumped to the floor. "Oh Cissa, He's dead." The two girls broke out of Lady Malfoy's arms and ran to their mother. "We're all dead." _

_Hermione stood in shock as the scene around her faded into shadows again. _

"Miss Granger, you may exit the pensieve."

An order. Not, a request.

As she pulled away from the smooth waters, the Gryffindor stumbled backwards slightly. What had just happened?

What in the name of Merlin had she just seen?.

There was no way, no way that what she had seen could have been true. She would have remembered. There would have been pictures, clothes, something, anything! No, no, no...

"Miss Granger, please sit down and let us continue where we left our discussion prior to viewing."

Hermione nodded and sat down. Her brain was already working at a hundred miles an hour to try and think of all the charms and spells she knew that could have made the suppression of those memories so complete. She could only think of a few and they had their flaws. But she realized with an internal groan that whoever had magicked her must have done so with Dumbledore or perhaps even Dumbledore himself and there were probably hundreds of thousands of spells that that man knew that the average wizard could only...

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione jumped, "Headmaster." She said flatly.

For the first time since exiting the pensieve, she actually looked at Albus Dumbledore. She could no longer see him as benevolent. He had done something, something huge, and she couldn't even grasp what he had done, no less the true magnitude. All she knew is that the balance of many lives were going to be thrown off if what she had seen was true.

The old man leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I know you must be confused by what you saw, and rightfully so. I didn't show you nearly enough, but if I had compiled all the necessary memories, we would have been here for hours. So it's clear to you that you were adopted."

Hermione's hands tightened on the arms of the seat. Now that her shock was wearing off, it was being replaced by anger. "Yes, Headmaster. I've known since I was a child." Her expression was clearly not amused.

Dumbledore nodded. "The memories you have just seen were compiled from Delilah Parkinson, her personal Elf, Minnie, and myself." He paused slightly, steepling his fingers in the air. "You were born on September 19th of 1979 as Hermione Peony Parkinson, the younger twin of Pansy Ophelia Parkinson."

Hermione's jaw clenched. "Pansy Parkinson is my twin."

The Headmaster nodded once again even though it hadn't been a question. "I know this must be a bit of a shock..."

Try as she may, Hermione could not have suppressed the snort that escaped her.

"But please continue to listen to my narrative. Those, were trying times for many, Miss Granger, but you and your sister were well cared for and well loved. The Parkinsons were an influential family who had made their name with the merchant trade a few hundred years ago and Mrs. Parkinson is both a Yaxley and Prince. They did not lack for anything. The true trial for them came when Voldemort fell."

Hermione scowled. That had been the last memory that Dumbledore had shown her, but she could _easily_ deduce that that was not even close to the end of the matter. It was probably the beginning.

He continued languidly. "That night, the marks had been deactivated by the corporeal death of the master. However, they did not disappear. When it came time to round all known Death Eaters up, there was a certain numbers disparity. There were many known conspirators but hardly any bore the dark mark. Those that did were affluent members of society and quite a few went free. It caused quite the stir."

Hermione was listening intently, not having heard this part of recent history. Sending unmarked criminals to jail while Inner Circle members got off scot free? Society must have been in an uproar.

"Your mother was among those that got off with a probationary period. Six months of no magical use. Three more years of close surveillance." He looked down at the 6th year Gryffindor and met her eyes. "You and Pansy saved your mother, Miss Granger. Soon after you were born, Theodore Nott's mother was killed in a raid, so Tom Riddle forbade the young mothers from participating in most of his... ah... activities. These mothers included Aurora Greengrass, and Narcissa Malfoy. Both of them were also protected when the trials came."

Hermione's lips pursed. "Excuse me Headmaster, as interesting as I find this information, how on earth do I fit in to all of this. How do I get from being a Parkinson to a Granger?" She asked.

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed. "Patience, child."

The Gryffindor bristled. Benevolent indeed.

" The trouble came the year after. I was discussing the removal of the dark mark with various Masters when they said that if the mark were truly dead, it would have disappeared. Such is the nature of Slave marks. It was disturbing news. I soon discovered that the soul of Tom Riddle remained. The war had not been ended, but rather, postponed. This, Miss Granger, is where you become valuable."

Hermione looked at her Headmaster squarely, her brain working. Valuable? What could one gain from taking a child away from a loving mother?

"Since the battle was postponed for an indeterminable amount of years, I had to plan for the future. So I chose you, from among your peers, to be my soldier. If the success of Riddle's dogma in the first war was any indication, the success of it a second time could strip the Light from any way to infiltrate the old names. So, on Christmas morning of '83-"

Fawkes suddenly flew from his perch and trilled a warning.

Dumbledore sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I must cut our meeting short." A flick of his wand and room shone slightly before the extra light disappeared. "We will continue our discussion at a later date, but I must tell you the most important part now. I mustn't waste any more time." He stood and selected a vial from his cabinet of memories. "I need you, Miss Granger, to return to your birth family. Once there, you must report the going-ons of the wealthy families directly to me."

Hermione's hands had gone white. "Sir, you mean for me to-"

"Spy. Yes, Miss Granger. You must do your duty for the sake of us all." With that, he handed her the vial of memories and opened the door.

Later that night, if anyone had been near the 6th years girls dorm, they would have heard the crash of glass and water as a pensieve hit the ground.

Ending Note: Just an introduction, so pretty short. Look forward to more soon! I'd love to hear what y'all think in the time being :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ** Here's chapter 2 for y'all! This is a quicker update than you'll usually receive, but I couldn't help myself :)

Disclaimer- I own nothing and make no money from this story. Everything recognizable is from J.K. Rowling's incredible mind.

**Chapter 2**

The moment Hermione Granger exited the Headmaster's office, Severus Snape stepped through the fireplace. His expression was totally devoid of any emotion.

"I now am positive you've gone completely loony, old man. There is no way Hermione Granger can be Hermione Parkinson. I was there the day she fell ill with pneumonia. I was there the morning she was found dead. I was there at the child's funeral and saw Delilah weep openly as the child's body was buried. There is no way." Snape crossed his arms and leaned against the wall adjacent to Albus Dumbledore.

The old wizard sighed. "You're overestimating your ability as an Occlumens fifteen years ago, Severus. You were not as good then as you are now and I was better then than I am now. Most of the occurrences surrounding the illness, death, and burial of Mia Parkinson were fabricated using a method similar to the one that prevents muggles from seeing Hogwarts. It was much more useful than obliviating all memories of the child and much simpler than rearranging the memories of each person that knew her."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "And now you're using her. Her, nothing more than an overenthusiastic school girl, to _spy_ on the wealthy purebloods." The word spy came out with an obvious sneer.

Dumbledore nodded. "That is correct. Severus, you must understand that having a pureblood loyal to the light is crucial. There are few to none that support us, and if they do, it is very rarely openly, thus we have no idea of what goes on in those circles. Excuse me Severus, but although you have access, you have very little power over the course of things in Pureblooded society."

The Potion Professor's flat back eyes met Dumbledore's twinkling blue ones. "You have no idea what you have done, old man."

"Severus-"

"No, you need to listen to me for once in your life. By putting her into the middle of the fray, you don't only endanger her life, but the life of every other spy in the circles. How long do you think she will last? Honestly, how long do you think an obstinate Gryffindor will survive in that hell hole?"

"It is a chance we have to take, Severus."

Severus Snape's facade cracked wide open. No, this was not a time to be carefree. Every one of them could die from the Headmaster's meddling.

"You already have more than seven adult spies in the Death Eaters. You have me. By Merlin, old man, you have four students. Four! Yet you want to add a fifth. A fifth that is not trained in Occlumency, pureblooded mannerisms, the Dark Lord's ways, who got an E on her DADA OWL, and is nothing more than a child. You are bringing back my cousin's lost child just for her to be lost again."

Dumbledore sat down in his chair and spread his hands on his desk. "The other four are unreliable, Severus, and you know this. I am never quite sure of their loyalties. Miss Parkinson, the Gryffindor that is, is the most talented witch of her class and can learn quickly. I know her loyalty will be only for Hogwarts and for me."

"She will die before Christmas, Albus."

"She must do her job."

"Can you listen to yourself? When she dies she will take the other students down with her, and maybe even me. That's five children you are slaughtering for the sake of the greater good."

"If they die, it is because they were truthfully loyal to me. We cannot afford to harbor traitors, Severus and you know this. Miss Parkinson will be close to the student spies and learn where their loyalties lie. We cannot win the war if we are betrayed."

"Have you stopped to think what if she betrays you?"

This stopped the Headmaster in his tracks. For the next few moments, there was silence in the room.

"What if she betrays you, Albus?" Snape asked again, his voice calmer, his defenses settling back into place.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. "What makes you think she would turn her back on her friends to follow a lunatic she has spent six years of her life fighting?"

"That's not the question, Albus."

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Her betrayal is not an option. It is not possible for her to go rogue. I have seen her thoughts and I know that her loyalty is complete when it comes to Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. She would not betray them. Now go to bed, Severus. Whatever you had to tell me can wait for the morning."

When the Headmaster raised his hand in the air, Severus Snape knew the discussion was over. His fate had been decided and there was nothing he could do about it. Forgoing the floo, he stalked out of Dumbledore's office through the main door, hoping to find some errant students to take out his frustration on.

Snape usually had faith in Dumbledore, for all he was a single-minded codger, but in this case, the Headmaster was wrong. He knew. Severus Snape knew what loyalty could do. He knew the lure of the dark on the mind of an intelligent student. But it had been decided.

The only question now was how long the candle was going to stay lit before the darkness engulfed it.

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_The sobbing child was held tightly in her mother's arms. Hermione recognized the room from an earlier memory. It had a high ceiling and light blue walls with silver trim. On a far side, there was a small bed that belonged to a child. Her. She was the child sobbing in the woman's arms. It was surreal. _

_Was this her memory? Had Dumbledore taken these from her or had he just suppressed them? _

_"Shh... darling." Delilah Parkinson cradled her three year old daughter. "You know he didn't mean it."_

_"Yes he did! He did. He said that I didn't belong with you and Daddy and Pans." The toddler was distraught. "He told me he didn't want to play no more. Because I- Because I was a- a- mudblood."_

_Delilah gasped and sat her daughter up on her knee. "He said what?" Her voice was incredulous. _

_"A mudblood. Because Pansy and Him and Theo already got their magic and I didn't have none."_

_The matriarch took one hand and ran it through her daughter's hair and took the other and covered her eyes. "That Lucius Malfoy. I'm going to have to have a word with him about how he talks around his son!" _

_"What Momma?"_

_"Never mind that, Mia. But you are not a mudblood. Not at all. Because you are pureblooded. You can never be a mudblood because your parents aren't muggles. I think he meant squib, sweetheart." _

_"That's still not very nice. I'm a witch!"_

_"I know, dear, I know."_

_Hermione reached out , not believing that this was real. This must have been one of her memories as a baby. The scene dissolved in front of her outstretched fingers._

_The new scene that replaced it was in the same bedroom, but it was dark. She was in her cot, sleeping peacefully, her tiny arms wrapped around a stuffed animal. Taking a chance, the adult Hermione tread lightly to the edge of the low bed and stared at herself. If she had ever had doubts about the memories she had watched earlier, now there was none. Hermione recognized herself from the multitude of baby pictures that her adopted parents were so fond of taking. The doubt was completely gone._

_"I'm sorry Hermione." _

_The voice made the adult shriek as she realized that Albus Dumbledore was standing not ten feet behind her. Yet her Headmaster did not look quite the same. Nor did he show any reaction to the loud scream that had echoed through the room. _

_He was just as much a memory as the sleeping child. _

_The younger Dumbledore drew his wand and walked forward, making Hermione move backwards. Nevertheless, she wanted to stay close enough to see what the wizard was doing. _

_He lay his wand on the temple of the child and closed his eyes. A soft whispering came from his lips and strands of blue floated into the air above Mia's sleeping head. After a few minutes, he drew a vial from his robe and bottled the memories. From there, he moved to the room and drew intricate patterns about the doorways and windows of the room. Hermione had never seen the likes of it before. She didn't even have the slightest idea what it was supposed to do. Even being the "brightest witch of her age," she could never hold even a sliver of Dumbledore's knowledge and power. She tried to interpret the runes he was drawing, but they dissolved into the woodwork so quickly she had no time. The only ones she managed to catch were memory and sickness. It was a strange combination. _

_Before she knew it, the Headmaster had finished casting and was walking back to the cot. After placing a sleeping charm on the child, he picked her up and carried her out of the room. The room glowed a bright blue, sealing whatever previous enchantments had been laid in them. In mere moments, Hermione felt herself leaving the Pensieve._

When she landed back in reality, the Gryffindor felt hot. Dumbledore had lied to her. He had lied to everyone, letting Hermione take the years of emotional abuse for being a muggleborn. She could probably even go out on a limb and say the Order had been lied to. If they had known the truth, well, it would have been spilled far before. Not everyone in the Inner Circle of the Order was as discreet as Severus Snape. There were members with prejudices strong enough that there would have been some sign. Moody perhaps? No, Moody was sour with everyone, not just her.

There was too much going on in her head for her to think clearly. All she did know was that Dumbledore had lied to her face for six years. He had taken her away from a family that, despite their involvement with the wrong side of the war, loved her immeasurably. In all of the memories she had seen, there must have been at least twenty, Delilah and Marius Parkinson had adored her and taken care of her. There were even other women, including Narcissa Malfoy, that had treated her like another daughter. She had had a sister who she had fought with, but always ended up hugging afterwards. She had had close friends in Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. Of all the people in the world! But they had had so much fun, and as a child she had loved them as fully as her twin.

Her childhood following her adoption by the Grangers had not been bad. In reality, it had been the opposite. The Grangers had been an older couple that had tried for children for years, but eventually had given up. Hermione, to them, had been a blessing. Still, they had been a work oriented family who, after Hermione began school, went back to their practice. So many afternoons passed where the young Hermione sat in the library at school, waiting for her mother or father to pick her up and take her to their office. Once there, she sat behind the desk and read some more, needing to be marginally quiet. It didn't help that her magic had manifested early. Just after her sixth birthday, she had levitated a pencil for a classmate that had dropped it. All the attention in the room turned to the floating pencil and within moments, the children all ran out screaming... except for Hermione. That had marked her as social pariah since 1st grade. Regular bursts of natural magic hadn't helped much either. Thus, she buried herself completely in books.

Luckily for the Grangers, they had a neighbor that was a squib and had taught Hermione and her parents about the magical world. Now that Hermione thought about it, Mr. and Mrs. Helms probably had been planted by Dumbledore. Meddling bastard!

Hermione felt her face flush. How could he? She had never been able to live a normal life for the off chance she would get sorted into Gryffindor and become friends with the "right people?" She had been happy, but so lonely as a child. The only love she had ever received was either from her parents or from the Helms.

The Gryffindor gripped the edge of the pensieve. She would never care about the social status that came with being a pureblood, but it would have made her childhood so much easier. How could he? How dare he?

With that thought clouding her mind, Hermione Parkinson threw the small pensieve to the ground, letting the silvery water spread on her floor.

**AN**: Reviews are a writer's best friends!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Next Chapter! This was originally two different chapters, but both were a little short, so I smashed them together. Not much to say other than I am **still looking for a beta** to help me out a little :) There is more language in this than the previous two, but other than that, enjoy! It's a the last of the backstory before we move forward.

Chapter 3

In the Snake Pit

Pansy Parkinson brushed her hair in the mirror. The magical object was uncharacteristically quiet as the brush ran in long strokes through her dark locks. It was probably sensing the pensive mood of its mistress. The entire morning, the Slytherin Princess had not said a word other than to ask the necessary questions: Did I get the back? Curls or straight? Brown or black eyeliner?

The mirror had answered politely and remained silent.

"Pansy, we're going to miss the train!" A sharp voice echoed through the bathroom.

The Slytherin sighed and shrunk her comb, setting it in her bag. "Coming, Daphie." With one more quick look in the mirror, she swept out of the room and into her friend. "Daphne Greengrass! Why on earth are you standing in front of the door?"

Ignoring the dark girl's outburst, Daphne chuckled."Shit Pans, you look like the brightest cloud in the sky today," Her eyes flashed with worry. "Anyway, the elves already took our things. If we go now, we'll get the last Thestral."

Pansy rolled her eyes at her closest friend and gave a strained laugh. "What are you waiting for?"

The pale blonde shrugged. "Only you, you crazy bitch. The other three are waiting in the common room. It's going to be a tight fit in the carriage." With that, the 6th year spun around and strutted out of the room, her best friend on her heels.

In the common room, Blaise, Draco, and Theo were watching the door to the Girls' hallway with varying levels of interest. Theo was leaning against the wall, his eyes never leaving the door. It was obvious the tall Slytherin was counting minutes in his head. Nevertheless, his expression was perfectly neutral. Blaise was lounging on one of the couches, humming to himself and counting stitches on one of the pillows. He was bored to death. Draco, on the other hand, was pacing back and forth by the exit.

"Blaise. Shut. Up." Draco growled. "You're driving me absolutely nuts."

Before the dark Italian could shoot back a snarky response, the Girl's hall flew open to reveal the girls.

Daphne raised her eyebrows. "Stop lazing around and come on!" she ordered. Pansy glared at all three.

"Cram it, Daphne. We're the ones who have been waiting a quarter of an hour for you." Draco shot back, his expression sour.

"Not me, bitch. Yours."

If the dark Slytherin had not been who she was, she would have been sheepish, but Pansy Parkinson outranked everyone in the room. Embarrassment was not in her nature, so she wasn't going to start showing it now, even if she did make the five of them miss the train. So what? Except for Draco, all of them had their Apparition license. Granted, it would cause their parents to have a heart attack at King's Cross. Eh, it was all in a day's work.

"Fuck you all. Let's go." Pansy stuck her nose up, hooked her arm with Draco and sauntered away. Draco glared at her, but it just caused her to smirk.

"She's got a stick up her ass today," Blaise chuckled as her rolled off the couch and followed the other three out.

Theo raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Please explain how that's any different than normal?"

Daphne laughed and linked arms with the two boys. Even though, at 5'8", the blonde wasn't short, she had to take larger steps than normal to keep up. Absentmindedly, she thought about Pansy's stony expression. It was odd for the dark Slytherin. Very odd. Usually, Pansy had far more fire than was normally appropriate for a Slytherin, but ever since she had talked with Dumbledore the night before...

A rush of summer air distracted the pale girl. It was far beyond her.

Pansy, on the other hand, had not said a word to Draco the entire walk. It wasn't only Daphne who had noticed something wrong, but they knew it was folly to bring it up before Pansy was ready. They had all grown up together, so they had had plenty of years to learn how not to kill each other. Too many strong personalities in one crib had caused far too many altercations.

They exited the castle in a tightly packed group, expecting to be the last ones there. The rest of their house had left nearly a quarter of an hour earlier, ushered out by the seventh years. The Slytherins were not expecting a harried trio to burst out of the castle right behind them.

Pansy spun around and froze as her eyes locked on an identical pair. Hermione Granger stood directly across from her: hair a wild mess, and robes blowing in the warm wind.

For a few moments, there was no one else in the world. As soon as their eyes met, they knew. They knew that Dumbledore had not fabricated anything. Mia Parkinson had not died.

"Well isn't it the illustrious Harry Potter! What mis-"

Draco's voice cut off suddenly when Theodore discreetly sent him a look. The look of shock and resignation on the two girls' faces had internally startled the calm Slytherin. Was there something that Snape had not told him? Marvelous.

"Afraid to finish that sentence, Malfoy?" Ron Weasly spat out.

Hermione pulled out of her silence and pulled on the boys' arms. "Leave it, Ron. We need to go." Her eyes had not yet left Pansy's.

"Taking orders from a girl now, Weasley? Bravo." Draco didn't have the sense to stay quiet even though all of the Slytherins, minus Pansy, were glaring at him.

Ron took a step forward, trying to wrest his arm from Hermione's grip. At identical moments, Hermione and Pansy tugged the boys away. Hermione chastised Ron for being so hot headed. Pansy simply hissed a warning at Draco and began to pull him towards the front of the two remaining carriages.

Once all the Slytherins had crammed inside a coach meant for four, Blaise turned to the dark girl. "Okay, Pans. Now I know something is the matter. They call you a Slytherin, but the way you and Granger were staring at each other, you made it rather obvious there's something going on."

Pansy, squeezed between the Italian and Draco, knew there was no way to avoid this conversation. She had let the surprise of seeing her... sister... get to her. By Merlin! Sister. It was so foreign. She hadn't said the word since she had been a small child. Sister.

"Pansy?" Theo's soft voice questioned. He needed to know what was going on. The look of shock on his friend's face was too foreign.

The Slytherin Princess sighed. "Dumbledore. It's all Dumbledore's fault."

Theo leaned back in his chair. Of course it was. Snape complained about the old man constantly. The only question was what did he do this time?

A look of horror began to take over Pansy's features. Out in the open it had been one thing, but here, with her closest friends, she had begun to collapse. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. "Mia." Was all she managed to whisper.

Every eye and ear around her turned to the girl in their midst. Mia? Mia Parkinson. Mia had been one of their closest friends as a child. Draco and Theo had practically been raised with her. Daphne had played with her on a regular basis. Blaise had come very near the end, but still had fond memories of the bright child. But Mia had died on Christmas morning. She had been suffering from pneumonia for a few weeks when the toddler had finally succumbed. Why was Pansy bringing up her dead twin now?

Daphne took Pansy's hand. "Did Dumbledore do something to Mia's grave? Or is it... Him."

Pansy shook her head. "No, no. This has nothing to do with the Dark Lord. It's all Dumbledore's fault."

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. "What is it then?"

"Mia isn't dead."

The shock in the thestral drawn carriage was nearly palpable. Hermione Parkinson was alive. The curly haired child they had played with, lived with, and loved was not dead. The world seemed to have flipped upside down. They had been so young that they did not remember it completely, but they remembered the pain and sadness of the time after Mia had died. They even had pictures of them together at the funeral.

Even though recollection was there, the predominant thought in their minds was that they had been lied to. They had been deliberately lied to and no amount of explaining could possibly convince them that it had been for their own good.

"Who else knows?" Draco asked, his face scrunched into an odd expression.

"Dumbledore, you four now, me, and-" Pansy paused and took a breath.

"Granger."

In Pansy's hesitation, Theodore's voice rang cool and clear. All attention flew to him, but his face was emotionless. Pansy's nod was so small, it was practically imperceptible.

"Granger?" Blaise scoffed.

"Yes," Pansy and Theo said in unison.

Daphne leaned back into her seat, her lips drawn into a thin line.

The opposite of Daphne, Draco was gaping openly. "Granger is Mia?" He couldn't believe it! There was no way that _that_ bushy-haired, prude, know-it-all, bookworm was the same child he had grown up with. "It can't be true."

From the look in Theo's eyes, it was obvious he was thinking hard. "Actually, now that Pansy brought it up, I don't know how we didn't see it before. She looks uncharacteristically like a Yaxley for a muggle-born. And Hermione isn't exactly a common name."

That made Draco's mouth click closed. He had seen Pansy's grandfather before and couldn't deny it. While Pansy looked nothing like a Yaxley, Hermione Granger actually did.

"I wouldn't have put it past Dumbledore to cast some odd charm on her either. Like a modified version of the Fidelius so no one would recognize her until told," Theo finished.

Seeing the train station coming closer, the group remained quiet. The carriage drew to a stop at the train just as a whistle blew. Hurrying into the nearest door, they went in one by one until Blaise was the last. Just as he was closing the door, he saw the Gryffindor trio leap out of their carriage and rush toward another coach. With a lingering glance on Hermione Granger, no, Parkinson, he couldn't help but wonder what on earth Dumbledore was doing.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

The Pensieve of Severus Snape

_A blood curdling scream echoed through the manor. Even from the Dining Hall, where Severus Snape and Marius Parkinson were waiting for the other Christmas Guests, the sheer agony in the cry could be heard. It was one of the few moments in his life that Severus could honestly say he did not think before acting._

_The cry broke off for a single moment before starting again with the same desperation and fear. By the time the second shriek began, both men were already dashing through the long hallways, knowing where the scream was from. What they both dreaded was why. _

_A second voice joined the first by the third keen. "Daddy! Daddy!" Marius saw the child running around the corner and scooped her up._

_"Daddy, what's happening?" Pansy wept openly as she clung to her father._

_Severus did not stop when Marius did. The child needed only her father. He continued into the west wing, his black robes flapping wildly as he ran to his cousin. In between the fourth and fifth cries, which had become wails rather than terrified screams, he reached the double doors. They had been thrown open. The moment Severus stepped inside, he became confused. Wait? What was going on? The fifth wail broke his confusion. Of course! Hermione had contracted pneumonia, a muggle disease, rare in wizards. It was not treatable by magic means, or so the Mediwizard had said, and needed to run its course. _

_Its course had ended. _

_Severus Snape knew that he could never clear the image from his mind. On the opposite wall, a small low cot was surrounded by Christmas presents. Shattered windows and French doors were letting in the biting winter air. Delilah Parkinson, the Slytherin beauty, knelt by the cot, her arms wrapped around a motionless child. _

_One of the presents by the cot exploded, shaking Severus from his spot in the doorway. Delilah was still in the second year of her probationary period, thus had had her magic severely restricted. There was no way she could have caused the destruction of the room with her wand. No, the windows shattering and packages exploding had been raw, unrestricted emotion._

_Finally crossing the room, Severus knelt to the floor by the young woman. "Lilah, let her go." _

_Delilah's keening had ceased, but she still sobbed. "No."_

_Marius soon entered, clutching the terrified Pansy to his chest. The girl stared with watery eyes at her mother and sister as the men pleaded with Delilah. Nothing they said made her relinquish her hold on her daughter. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. _

_"No!" Delilah shrieked, startling her living daughter into another wave of tears. "No! No! No! I've given up everything. Absolutely everything! I gave up on love to marry who my family desired. I had to give up Audrey and my position in the thrice-damned war. I gave up fighting happily, but still I suffer because of the mark. I gave up my magic for six months and I still can't use all of it because the ministry decided I was damned. I had to give up Audrey's son when I had raised him because that bastard Julian Nott decided that he wanted him. How dare he decide that it was convenient to have a child to keep him out of Azkaban! Theodore was mine! Mine! I will not give up my daughter. I will not. Pansy is you, Marius, but Mia... she's mine. I cannot, will not, give her up!"_

_Silence descended._

_The disturbance in the room only registered for Severus. Marius only had eyes for Delilah and Delilah only for Hermione. In the doorway stood Narcissa Malfoy with Draco and Theo. Behind her entered Aurora Greengrass with Daphne and baby Astoria. The rest of their Christmas party had arrived in time to hear Delilah's heartbroken shrieks._

_Setting her son down, Narcissa strode across the room and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You must, Lilah. Please." _

_Severus didn't know whether it was hearing the voice of her closest friend or hearing a Malfoy say please that prompted it, but Delilah finally loosened her hold. Many quiet words were spoken by the adults. Eventually, the toddler was placed back into her cot. The remaining children were ushered out of the room, looking stricken. Aurora Greengrass contacted St. Mungo's and within the hour the house was quiet again._

The potions professor hadn't wanted to revisit the memory. He had taken it out of his mind the moment he had returned home that Christmas, but even the ghost of it had haunted him. One could never truly be free from the past; the pensieve only took away the sting. When Dumbledore had told him that everything involving Mia Parkinson had been a lie, it was all he could do to not gape. In retrospect, he probably had stared incredulously at the old man. Looking back at the memory, he could clearly see where the enchantment had been planted. The entrance to Hermione's room had been the anchor for the false recollections and Christmas had been the perfect time to lay them. That way it was ensured that more than the Parkinsons would have the same enchantments placed on them and the words would spread without doubt.

Meddling old man. That terrible, egocentric, officious, intrusive... Severus Snape was so exhausted that he couldn't even think of all the adjectives that could be used to describe the Headmaster. He couldn't understand why Dumbledore would have felt the need to risk so many children in the war. If he asked, the only answer he would receive would be: for the greater good.

Severus was beginning to hate those words.

**Ending Notes: **Read and Review please!


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Next chapter! Also, a huge thank you to my first reviewer, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx. Seriously, even simple reviews make me smile. It lets me know I'm actually doing something that people want to read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and everything is the brainchild of the illustrious JK Rowling. Well, except my gorgeous Delilah Parkinson who makes a brief appearance in this chapter.

**The Owls of Summer**

Harry,

I know that it's only been two days since I've seen you, but I desperately need to apologize. My behavior on the train was abysmal. Please Owl Ron for me. Please. Let him know that I'm sorry for making Ginny cry. I already tried contacting him, but my letter came back unopened. I think he's really mad and you know how he gets when he gets mad.

I know that I owe you both explanations, but those will come later. It's still too surreal. I'm sorry, but I really can't describe it beyond the fact that the Headmaster really messed up and many things are going to change because of it.

Hermione

~~O~~

Ron,

Get your head out your ass and read Hermione's letter. She really is sorry for what she said to Ginny. She didn't explain anything to me beyond the fact that she couldn't explain herself. And while I don't like secrecy or how she snapped at us on the train, I'm not about to risk my friendship with her by not listening.

When you come to your senses, we should try to meet up with her and see if she feels like explaining then,

Harry

~~O~~

Herm... Mia... Parkin... Granger... Hermione,

As you can probably tell from my less than eloquent greeting, I have no clue what to call you. Hell, I don't even know you beyond the fact that I've shared classes with you for six years. Dumbledore really fucked up, didn't he? Yes, I swear. Get used to it, princess. That's beside the point, though. I was wondering where this mess leaves you. Us, really. I haven't talked to mother yet.

Pansy

~~O~~

Pansy,

You can use a spell to get rid of mistakes in your letter. It's fairly simple. Look at me, still being a swot over Owl Mail. Truthfully, I don't know what any of this means or will mean. You should tell your mother- our mother. I don't remember being Mia and that's the worst thing about this. I had to rewatch all of those years through a pensieve.

Hermione

~~O~~

Draco,

I owled Hermione yesterday and got her response this morning. I'm so confused. I don't know what to make of any of this. Dumbledore took away her memories! How could he? I'm still horrified that this is Granger we're talking about. Still, not even she deserves this. I just don't know what to do or say or anything...

Pansy 3

~~O~~

'Mione,

I talked to Ron yesterday. He finally read your letter and admitted to being an insufferable ass about the whole deal.

_Did Not!_

This is what I get for being lazy and using a Dictoquill.

_I did not admit to being an ass, 'Mione. But that doesn't make me any less sorry for sending your letters back._

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm with Ron right now.

_Oi! You're in my house. You can't really expect privacy._

That's a given. Anyway-

_We were wondering whether you mind telling us about whatever's pissing you off._

Ron!

_What? That's what we were going to talk about._

I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Diagon Alley soon. Once there, we can talk, but only if you want to.

_Why're you glaring at me like that?_

Let us know if you can.

Harry

and Ro-

~~O~~

Granger,

I know what's going on. Just tell me. Are you Mia?

Malfoy

~~O~~

Malfoy,

Yes.

Parkinson

~~O~~

Draco looked at the letter in his hands. Well, letter would have been a vast hyperbole to describe the slip of paper with one word on it. Yes. Still it was that one word that he had most feared. He couldn't tear his eyes from the paper.

Yes.

Hermione Granger was Mia Parkinson back from the dead.

In retrospect, Theo was right. With a name like Hermione, they should have been able to see it. With her looks, they should have been able to see it. She looked very much like her grandparents, although the Yaxley stood out stronger than the Prince. Granted, he had never actually met any Princes beyond Snape and well, Snape was a Snape. Still, there were many similarities in the dark eyes that both Severus Snape and Delilah Yaxley possessed. Dark eyes that had passed on to Delilah Parkinson's children.

What was he doing? Draco stopped suddenly. Why was he still obsessing over Hermione? Even though he asked himself those questions, he already knew the answers.

As children, it had always been the twins, Theo, Daphne, and him. Blaise had been there a little, but only towards the end of their early years. The two Parkinson girls had subsequently been betrothed to the two boys. Pansy, being the "elder" of the two, had been betrothed to Theo. A few months later, once his mother had found out she was with child, Mia had been betrothed to him. It was a common thing in Pureblooded households for the children to be promised from birth if a suitable match could be made. It was much cleaner than if the parents waited for the children to grow and develop feelings for another. The infamous and doomed affair of the young Delilah Parkinson made sure everyone, including herself, kept clear away from leaving a child to decide on their own. Instead, the parents raised the betrothed children as inseparable and the majority of the time, the children accepted the fact. He and Hermione had always been thrown together and oh how they quarreled. Another similarity with Granger. Damn. Mia and Draco had fought and laughed and fought again for his entire life: three and a half years. When she had died, he had still been young enough to not quite understand why she wouldn't be coming back. Betrothals quickly changed hands, and he had ended up with Pansy while Theo was left without a betrothal. Nott had considered a match with Daphne, but the Notts, Malfoys, and Greengrasses were all cousins. Even though all three families could be considered old fashioned, first cousins once removed was still a little close for modern tastes.

Draco groaned and slid down the manor wall, his head in his hands. Pureblooded politics were enough to give anyone a headache at the best of times. And this was the worst. Hermione Granger was Mia Parkinson. Shit.

He had to talk to Theo.

~~O~~

Hermione Parkinson,

I have just been informed through multiple sources that you have returned from the dead. As one of the mourners at your funeral, I find this hard to believe despite what my son and your twin have said. Having never met you in your formative years, I cannot attest to the falsehood or validity of their statements.

Narcissa Malfoy

~~O~~

Lady Malfoy,

I understand you reluctance to believe what you have heard. I myself almost do not.

Enclosed in the box is a vial with a pensieve memory enclosed. It is Dumbledore's from the night he took me. I hope it will clear your doubt if not your surprise.

Hermione Parkinson

~~O~~

Aurora, darling,

I don't know if Delilah or Daphne have informed you, but it seems Mia Parkinson is alive. I know it sounds beyond ridiculous, but it is true. Poor Delilah, having had her precious daughter taken away from her to be raised by muggles. I can still hear her weeping when she flooed to tell me Hermione was alive. Just in case you don't believe me, stop by. I will show you the pensive memory that Hermione Parkinson sent me as proof. It was more than enough.

Cissa

~~O~~

Lilah,

We had lunch last weekend and you fail to tell me about Mia being ALIVE? I had to hear through Cissa of all people. I always get second hand information.

Aurora

~~O~~

Severus Tobias Selenus Snape.

I will wring your neck with so much force that Grandmama Adonia will rise out of her grave and applaude. She hated you and your father enough, that she might even throw a festivity so large, it can be felt through the gates of hell and into the mortal world. To think that my dearest cousin, my only cousin, would not tell me that my daughter is alive. Well, that is quite the scandal. Don't you dare deny that you knew. You still speak to Dumbledore, you abominable man. Oh to tell me that Mia is ALIVE. That would be far too much to ask.

Next time I see you, I will personally kill you. Without a wand. Our Lord may do what he wishes to me after, but the satisfaction of seeing you dead will carry me through the rest of my considerably shortened days.

Delilah Yaxley Parkinson

~~O~~

Cousin,

I will not deny that I had knowledge of it, but only from the 19th of June. I know you feel quite vindictive and I do not blame you. However, I recommend you keep your hands off my person. Too much force may injure them and ruin your lovely piano playing.

Severus

There was no need to bring my father's name into this.

~~O~~

Hermione,

Words cannot express my feelings at this moment. To know that my daughter, one I believed to be long dead, is alive is beyond a miracle. Still, to know that this daughter does not remember me or her time in my house leaves me wondering. Who are you? To not know my daughter is torture. I ask for you to come home this summer, even if it is not for the entirety. I do not know what your muggle caretakers will say, but please allow a spited mother to be selfish. I wish for you to come home,

Delilah Parkinson

~~O~~

Headmaster,

I have received an invitation to spend at least part of my summer at Parkinson Manor. Should I accept? It would go along with your plans, but I am not sure.

Hermione Parkinson

~~O~~

Miss Parkinson,

Business is so trite! I ask you not to discuss it over Owl and I would much rather keep owls for the dispensing of pleasantries. Speaking of pleasantries, congratulations on taking your new name. Trust your instincts, child, for there are many things I cannot assist you with.

Albus Dumbledore

~~O~~

Mother,

I admit that writing that is as strange as saying it will be. It may take quite a while. I would be glad to move into the manor at the beginning of August if that works for you,

Hermione

~~O~~

Theo,

She is. You were right, although I don't think Pansy was about to lie to us. Not about this. Fuck. I honestly don't even know how to react to any of this. I even went out of my way to Owl her. Me, owl Granger- Parkinson- Mia... Just Fuck. I don't even know what to call her. It's not like you can help, I just need to vent. You, me, Pansy, tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron. She's having a worse time at it than I am.

Draco

Theo read the letter twice before feeding Draco's owl and sitting down at his desk.

The population of Hogwarts had always seen him as cold. He remained aloof and above it all even when Draco was off making a general ass of himself. He spent his time in books rather than in groups of people and had an instinctive knowledge of subjects that others students had hardly heard of. The only exception to his self-imposed exile was the Slytheirn Court. In the common room among his peers, he had a commanding presence and although not as charismatic as Blaise or naturally superior, like Draco, he had risen to second in command with grace and ease.

Still, of the members of Slytheirn House, only four could see beyond the flawless exterior to see the curious and mischievous boy inside. They were the four that he had known from early childhood. Draco was one of them. He, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne were the only ones who knew why Theo kept his distance from every one.

After Pansy's betrothal had switched from him to Draco, he had been the only one not promised. That had not changed in the thirteen years since Mia's death. Still, purebloods were purebloods and his father could at any time decide to find a match for the Slytherin and his illusion of freedom would be shattered. So, Theodore had to be careful. He could not go around shamelessly flirting. He could not date girls here and there. He could not form attachments and could not let attachments be formed. For the first few years at Hogwarts, that had been easy. However, as he had entered fourth and fifth year, things with the other Purebloods had begun to change. Blaise became the epitome of man whore and Draco soon followed in his footsteps. They didn't need to worry about making lasting attachments or shaming the family name. They already had girls waiting for them when they were ready to return. The whole thing was absurdly backwards.

Astoria Greengrass, who Blaise was betrothed to, never seemed to have much of an issue with her intended's promiscuity. Pansy, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with. The Parkinson was possessive to a fault and made the lives of the various girls Draco dallied with veritable Hells. It didn't help her reputation though, since everyone began to titter about her being obsessed with Draco. Theo did have to admit the dark girl had an obsessive streak, but it wasn't what the school thought. She just had never been second before.

None of it changed the fact that Theo was unattached and had to keep his name pristine. Many times, Blaise, Draco, and even Liam Avery, Daphne's "beau," would try to convince him to tag along. His response was always the same. No. Occasionally, he would make excuses, but he preferred being clear the first time. No. When Theodore Nott declined, no one ever tried to convince him otherwise. By the end of fourth year, the others had finally figure out why he declined and ceased pestering him.

Granted, in fifth and sixth year there had been a few girls, but they were always Slytherin, always older, and, most importantly, always tight lipped. They were the complete opposite of the clueless Hufflepuff gossips that Blaise seemed to prefer. The Italian had little sense of subtlety for a Slytherin, at least in Theo's perception. Thus, Theodore had become the mysterious shadow of the Slytherin court, little talked about outside of his common room. Handsome features could be overlooked easily once girls realized there was no "soft side" to the ice-cold Slytherin.

Yet as Theo reread Draco's letter one more time, he knew things were about to change. Mia had returned and would be thrown into the strange world of Pureblooded culture and etiquette. It would take a blind fool to realize what was going to happen with that introduction. Hermione, nearly eighteen and unbetrothed, her mother's favourite child. Him, nearly eighteen and unbetrothed, her mother's favourite child.

It was a disaster in the making.

Taking a quill, he began to write a letter:

Hermione Parkinson,

I'm sorry if Faust bites you. He was raised by my father and obtained some unpleasant habits. I know this letter could be considered strange, but I assume it is no stranger than our current circumstances. Pansy told Draco and I that you would be moving to the Manor in August. I know you and Draco dislike each other, so I might as well warn you now that both he and I spend much time there. Count yourself warned.

Also, would you be adverse to meeting with me tomorrow? I wish to tell you a few things that would be tedious to write down in the detail required.

Theodore Nott.

**End Note: **Thanks for reading! Anyone who reviews gets a sneak-peek of Chapter 5 and trust me, it's a fun one.


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